Good Wine, Good Food and Good Company!

by Janel Koval
I did my interview with Luigi Gazetta, a fourth generation photographer who retired about 7 years ago.  He still remains an active part of the Cagliese lifestyle.  He invited me to go to an event on Friday so I could capture him interacting with his fellow store keeps. 

Apparently, this is something that he and all the store owners on his street do every Friday.  When they get together, they only speak in dialect, and Luigi warned me that it would be a bit of a gossip fest.  I was all too interested in experiencing the traditional Cagli life, that the language barrier did not intimidate me.

Being an outsider at this event, made me realize the close relationships that have formed in Cagli over the generations.  This town has more history that I am use to, and it appears that the people of Cagli, embrace the lifestyle and traditions. 

As I sat at the table, I snapped pictures and took video of the event and quietly took in this experience that I was lucky enough to be invited to.  I sat there in aw of the affection and intimacy that all of the gatherers seem to have with one another.  It was unlike anything I was use to, but I liked it.

It made me realize that friendship and generosity supersede the superficial thinks in life.  Although I was an outsider, they filled my plate and wine glass up as if I was a regular participant in the event.  They made me feel welcome and comfortable in a situation where I could not verbally communicate or understand.  I was astonished at how open everyone was and found myself grateful to be a part of such a treasured event.

If you do not know...ASK!!!

by Janel Koval
During our travel days, Andrea, Jessica and I decided to take an early bus to Fano.  The woman at the ticket center in Cagli was very helpful and she told us that we would have to change busses.  Andrea told us that we would need to ask the driver if the bus was going to Fano, so we all agreed we would do it.

I remembered that we were told he bus would say Fano on it, so when we arrived at Calamazzo to change busses, we found one that said Fano and got on it.  We made one major mistake, when we got onto the bus, we did not ask if the bus was going to Fano, we just assumed. 

Shortly after the bus started moving, we realized that the bus was heading to Ubino.  I had to lean over to the women sitting across from me and ask, "Tu parli in Englese?"  They all chuckled and said no, to which I responded, "Andiamo a Fano?"  This elicited a more serious reaction of "No, andiamo a Urbino." 

We had already been to Urbino, and now were a little upset that this mishap would be cutting into our tanning time.  This young woman sitting behind me, overheard our conversation, and told us that the next bus to Fano would leave about 20 minutes after our arrival to Urbino. 

Although this as a wrench in our plans, asking the question, got us the information we needed to get back to Fano and spend the day in the sun.  Once in Urbino, I realized that the bus system in Italy is just like the subway system in NYC, you just have to know where you are going.  If you do not know, ask questions, otherwise, your tanning time may get cut by two hours.

Caution: Inevitable Reverse Culture Shock Ahead

by Elizabeth Collins

Tomorrow morning my time in Cagli will come to a close. While some may be itching to get home – I cannot share the same enthusiasm. Don’t get me wrong… I am excited to see my friends and family, but I am enjoying the Italian life so much.

While some might be largely affected by pausa, multiple changes in event times, stores being closed seemingly without reason, or trying to remember to pay after eating and drinking. But – not me! None of these things have made me feel dissonance. In fact, people at home pick on me all the time for taking too long, being late, or deciding that - ehh - I’d like to relax instead. I may not be Italian but I sure feel like I fit in!

I’m attempting to prepare myself now for the dissonance I will feel when I return home. It will be hard to leave Cagli because of the beautiful scenery and generous people but also because I prefer this lifestyle to American culture. I enjoy walking slower and taking in the moment – I enjoy not feeling rushed or pressed to do things just to accommodate other people. I enjoy knowing the people I pass on the streets everyday and feeling safe when I walk home at night.

So, I am aware that reverse culture shock is ahead for me. I am hoping by knowing that up front I will be better prepared to handle it… I do not want to end up staying in bed for two months haha. I will miss the pastry and frozen cappuccino  in the morning, visiting the river during pause, the fresh market each week, the delicious food, the most adorable men gossiping on the piazza wall, andddd gelato - every flavor. I'm not quite sure how I will do without these things in my life each day - can I just stay here?

Friendly Neighbor

by Jessica Mico-Wentworth

I have felt welcomed during the entire time I have spent in Cagli.  It is a wonderful small city to visit. While sightseeing and visiting the various shops, the store owners joked with me when they saw how I was struggling with their language.  They always smiled and made me feel comfortable even though it was difficult for us to understand each other.  

I know I’m someone who takes a little while to warm up to people, and I’m realizing I might have taken too long to get comfortable enough to try to have longer conversations with the locals.  Anytime I smiled at them they would return it with an even larger smile.  

I remember the first day I arrived, trying to open the front door of my apartment, and having a difficult time with it.  An Italian gentleman put his hand up and pointed to the keys and gestured that he would help.  I handed him the keys and he showed me how to open the door and smiled at me while walking away.  This was the start of my intercultural communication experience in Cagli. I found that my non-verbal communication skills have gotten me further than I expected when supplemented with bits and pieces of Italian. I struggled to speak in Italian rather than using English.  

This has been a wonderful experience that I will not forget as I get back to the US. I have learned patience is necessary when communicating with people from different cultures and trying to figure out the many different ways to communicate.  I work in a place where I see visitors from all over the world that need help with directions and advice on what they should see.  My experience in Cagli will enrich the skills I am working to develop so that I can better communicate with these visitors. Everyone deserves the time and effort to help them have an amazing experience. 

The promise of home

by Tom Greene

They say youth is wasted on the young. So too, it seems, is experience wasted on those about to go home from Cagli.

Walking through the Wednesday market, I felt a complete sense of ease. I stopped to buy a drink at my favorite tabacchi, shared a joke with a local friend, and munched on fried squid and shrimp. The Italians have a beautiful word: tranquillo. For me, it is a sense of home. The feeling was so different from the anxiousness I felt when I first came here, trying to speak to locals and fumbling with my words, handing over big bills so I wouldn’t have to make change, hoping that smiling like a goon would cover my mistakes. Now, I felt serene, peaceful – at home.

We leave tomorrow, of course. I don’t want to go. I heard someone talk about how a student from a previous class broke a hip and had to stay here for six weeks. Immediately, I wondered just how bad a broken hip would hurt and how I could go about making that happen. My anxiousness from the newness of first being here is now replaced with the anxiety of trying to figure out how to come back to Cagli. I need to find an angle… hopefully one that doesn’t involve breaking any bones. I have make a promise to myself to come to terms with leaving. I'll be back. I promise. 

Leaving My Italian Home

by Jacelyn Keys

My last full day in Cagli.  It seems like only yesterday the bus dropped us off.  And yet, it is as if we have lived a lifetime since arriving.  I couldn’t sleep so I grabbed my laptop and came to the piazza for once of Jake’s cappuccinos.  Starbucks has been forever ruined for me. 

We are each dealing with leaving Cagli in our own ways.  Last night several of us nearly cried at the thought of our limited time left here - we agreed to just enjoy each second we have left in our Italian home and each other’s company. The reintegration process will be different for each of us, but the finality of knowing we will never be together in this city in the way we are in this moment is sobering. 

We will each say goodbye to Cagli in our own way.  Part of my process is this post.  I’ll miss so many things, but these are things I will miss dreadfully:

·        The piazza – because Italian homes are for the most part small, the piazza becomes the community living room.  This idea of being in community with each other in such a way as this is truly one of my favorite parts of Italian life.  People make the time to great each other, to have a gelato, or sip a Prosecco with friends and neighbors.  I bought a painting of the piazza here and will hang it in my office as a reminder that the true worth of a person is not the 14 or 16 hour days they give to the office but the meaningful relationships they create with those around them.

·        Public displays of affection – in America, I am relatively opposed to these.  I find sitting on each other’s laps and making out in public annoying to say the least.  Here, affection is just that.  It feels less like public foreplay and more the communication of true warmth.

·        The food scene – Roma and Firenze had me worried.  I didn’t eat breathtakingly good Italian food until I came to Cagli.  As I walked around town, I found new treasures, tried many restaurants and spoke to the chefs about their philosophy of food.  My favorite place to eat, quickly became Sant' Angelos.  A small family run restaurant, they only seat 21 people.  The husband bottles 150 bottles of the most breathtaking cherry wine a year (honestly, I hate wine, but you could fill a bathtub with this stuff, pop a straw in it and I would liberally indulge), all the produce is grown in the couple’s garden, and the meats (including horse, which yes, I tried) are locally produced.  You can taste the love.   

·        Screen less windows with shutters – The first time I threw open the shutters, I actually thought about extending my hand to see if a bluebird would land on my finger.  I was having my own little Snow White moment in Italy! Don’t tell me Disney doesn’t impact culture. 

·        Deanna - *sigh*.  I’ll miss my dear friend and roomie dreadfully.  We decided to come to Italy together over a year ago during our first class in this grad program.  Getting to know her, hug her, and laugh with her in Italy is a blessing I will take with me far beyond our time in Cagli.

·        The People – the people of Cagli have been beyond kind and gracious.  They have welcomed us, taught us, laughed with us (probably at us a time or two), corrected us, and been endlessly patient with our toddler-esque Italian attempts.  The people make the city.  The here people are amazing.

I have, of course, missed things about home:

·        Reliable internet access (discovered I live just fine without it.)

·        A dryer (so it takes two days to dry our clothes – plan ahead.)

·        Being able to shave my entire leg (the coffin sized showers prevent this comfortably, but since I only packed capri pants, I don’t really need to shave my entire leg so who cares?)

·        A dryer climate (I’m not used to the humidity and I’m not a fan of it, but if the kids can run and play in the humidity, I can suck it up and sit in the humidity.)

·        Having complete control over my hair (because of the humidity, I have ‘Shirley-Temple-stuck-her-finger-in-a-light-socket hair’ – and who really cares? It has yet to impact my ability to learn new things).

·        Ice (It’s a Europe thing.  They just don’t put ice in your drinks.  Deal.)

·        Being able to check in with Mom (phone calls are spendy, but I have been able to keep touch with email and the occasional call, and she knows how to get ahold of me, so it’s worked fine).

·        My heels – I didn’t pack any and I have found that I miss them.  But I’m in a fashion capitol of the world (honestly, the entire country is shaped like a thigh high boot) and I may just bring home some new friends.

All in all the things I miss, save for talking to Mom more, isn’t that big of a deal.  What I have gained is ever so much more powerful and life altering.  Worth every penny.  Worth every tear shed.  Worth every sleepless night.  Worth it a thousand times over. 

Grazie Mille, Cagli.  You have changed my life and become a part of my heart and soul.  I will carry you with me always. 

Computers in the Piazza

by Deanna Titzler

The town of Old Cagli centers on the piazza. This is the meeting place of the Cagliese, and many gather here in the mornings and evenings to meet with friends, drink a glass of vino, and relax from the day’s activities.  Free wifi is offered in the piazza, which many Gonzaga students, including myself, discovered shortly after our arrival in town.

In order to link into the wifi system, you need to have an Italian mobile phone, as the password for accessing the Internet is sent via text message to your phone. Ironically, this is one of the few times I have used my phone in Italy.  While the strength of the wifi signal varies, most of us have found it workable for our daily communication needs.

However, when we sit in the piazza with our laptops and iPads on our laps, working or looking at our email or Facebook, we stand out.  As I look around at the locals, no one else has their computers out. Rather, they sit back, chat, laugh, and eat their gelato while observing life in the piazza.  Granted, we students have many deadlines in this program, which require us to work in the evenings.   

For me, I’d much prefer to be sitting outside in the cool breeze, work on my projects, and sip on wine rather than work in my small apartment.  But, this is just one more example of how life is different in Italy than in the United States.  Many Americans would think it normal to pull out their mobile devices when in restaurants or at social gatherings to check out the weather forecast, the game scores, or text with friends.  Here, it is outside the norm.

Interestingly, the number of laptops pulled out in the piazza has dwindled over the past week.  I believe this is due to the acculturation we have encountered during our time in Cagli.  We have made friends with the Cagliese, and now enjoy sitting in the local cafes, discussing our day, sharing a bottle of vino, and enjoying life.

Firefighting Culture

by Jessica Mico-Wentworth

After visiting and watching training at a local fire station in Cagli, I noted several commonalities between these firefighters and the firefighters I know in the U.S.  Both teams of firefighters have passion and drive to do whatever it takes to help others in need. I watched the Cagli firefighters train in the heat of the day and recognized how seriously they were preparing for emergencies.  I have witnessed this same passion and concern in trainings in the U.S.

This is an example of two different cultures becoming one culture through their work as firefighters form a community that transcends the cultural differences between countries.  Although Italian and American firefighters speak different languages and have different cultural values, through their work they demonstrate the same value system.  Even though both groups are faced with budget cuts, they pride themselves on doing whatever it takes to be ready for any type of emergency, getting the job done with what they have.  

This type of career takes dedication and hard physical labor with demanding hours.  It is comforting to realize that the firefighting work culture creates co-culture no matter what department, agency, or country they work in.  There may be different approaches and equipment used on a fire, but the individuals themselves share the same value system and goals.    

E Sempre Un Avventura – Every Step is an Adventure

by Stefanie Burger

The last few days in Cagli have been life changing. I have not experienced much dissonance in the majority of the time that I have spent here in the city or even in the surrounding cities but the last few days have really made me realize that this place is home. The mindset and lifestyle of the Cagliese is one of community, one based on friendship and one that I hope to continue using as a model for my own life once I return to the states. 

Yesterday, we had an Italian quiz at school and the night before was filled to the brim with anxiety to say the least. Student’s filled the Piazza and could be seen in any corner of the square with a different local making an effort to understand conversational Italian while constructing sentences for our “guess test” the next morning. While my roommate and I had planned on having a single glass of wine and a brief visit with one of our favorite locals, Romano, we ended up getting much more than we had originally bargained for. 

As we were preparing to leave, we walked into Café D’Italia to say our goodbyes and ended up turning our attempted farewells into hellos that were shared with new friends. For hours, we sat at the bar learning Italian from the locals, enjoying complimentary food and drink with the owner and listening to American music (specially chosen for us) booming throughout the bar. There were three students (including myself) that sat at the bar until the wee hours of the morning and it was in those wee hours that we bonded with the locals, experienced their kindness and made connections that will leave and imprint on our hearts for all time. 

This may seem like such a tiny and insignificant moment but in the time we spent at that bar, we grew roots into the community and it created a strong hold that would permanently attach us to this place for our entire lives. I write about this experience specifically (even though there have been many similar moments) because I am not quite sure this type of connection could occur in many areas throughout the states. In the US, I notice a certain sense of urgency in general but specifically within the food industry. Everything is about the quick turnover, closing on time, meeting quotas and conforming to a corporately driven idea of what matters. In Italy, closing times are flexible, you enjoy your food, you indulge in good company and a table is yours for as long as you like it.  

What am I trying to say here? Simply this… As cliché as it may sound, take the time to smell the roses, take a slow stroll through your neighborhood, sit down and enjoy the artistry in your next cup of coffee and make the time to meet new friends, try new things and take small chances.  This past week, I traveled to Urbino and made the decision to permanently tattoo a Cagli landmark and some words of Italian wisdom onto my body in hopes of carrying this life changing experience and all of my memories with me for my lifetime.  This phrase is with me forever and I hope that the next incoming group of students will take the time to apply it to their own assimilation into the Cagli community. Simply remember, “E sempre un avventura” because “every step is an adventure.”

A Beer of Hair?

by Elizabeth Collins

            Last night, at Caffe D’Italia I was relaxing and attempting to write. After sitting in the heat all day, I decided it would be nice to have a drink. I went in, and asked Jake for “Vorrie Una Birra Coppelie” – which should have been “Vorrie Una Birra Collesi”. He looked at me confused and continued to work. Maria, another bar tender that speaks a bit of English, kindly let me know that I had just ordered a beer of hair.

            Collesi is the brand name of the beer and for some reason I am having the hardest time remembering it. But, then again, I am having a pretty difficult time remembering any of the words. For me, the language is absolutely the most difficult aspect of immerging in the culture. It deters me from attempting to have conversations with people, it makes me anxious about trying to order food, and it makes everything harder. That may seem pretty negative but it truly is an enormous barrier. Naturally, I am an introvert  - so speaking to people I don’t know is already a bit out of my comfort zone. The stress of not understanding what anyone is saying is something I did not anticipate. The Italian classes are helping but it seems as though many students are picking it up much quicker – this adds more dissonance.

            However, it is getting better. A little. Though I am still having difficulty remembering anything – and ordering beers on hair – I am feeling more comfortable with the people of Cagli. So, I am not as uncomfortable trying and messing up. This slight improvement in comfort is my stance on day 9. Day one was dramatically different. So… my hope is that by day 14, my last day in Cagli, I will be much further.

Beauty

by Jessica Mico-Wentworth

In the small amount of time I’ve spent in Cagli, more than anything else I have probably enjoyed the cleanliness of the city and the wonderful community.  Every morning I wake up to the sound of the street sweeper.  This culture takes pride in and values making sure the city looks its best every day.  During our travels around Italy, Dr. Caputo mentioned the importance of looking up as you walk because of the beautiful, historical sights.  This is true in Cagli.  The community members have added colorful flowers to their balconies, and the color helps to brighten up the buildings. 

As I walked around the city, I noticed the shops are set in some of the most “random” spots.  Every day while sitting around the piazza, someone from our class would mention a new shop where they found something amazing and slowly each of us would trickle down to the store.  If it’s during pausa, the students would ask when it would open again.  Also, there is no advertising in front of the stores or billboards like the in U.S.  It reminds me of my home in Hawaii, where billboards are illegal.  Businesses in Cagli are not willing to take away from the beauty of their city to advertise the location of their shops, and they are not worried about having set store hours.  This doesn’t take away from the store owners having pride in their businesses -- they just see the beauty of Cagli more important.

What time?

by Gina Tanner

Having recently lived in New Mexico, I’d thought I was well used to the concept of maňana. Those who haven’t had the pleasure of living in the Land of Enchantment may think maňana refers to “tomorrow”. However, in New Mexico, it means “not today”. And, the native New Mexicans embrace the concept that if it doesn't happen today, they’ll take care of it sometime in the future. Near future or distant future – it doesn't matter. Just sometime that isn't today.

So, I really didn't think the Italian concept of “flexible” time would affect me all that much. Was I ever wrong – again. Almost daily, great cultural experiences (dinners, meetings, etc.) have been planned to enrich our Cagli experience. Frustratingly, the times change. And change. And change. When we request ask exact times, the answer is, “7:00, 7:30, maybe 8:00”. 

Time Orientation Value is such a part of my American cultural make-up that I almost have a physical reaction to not being somewhere on time, or if people don’t show up when they’re scheduled, or if something doesn't happen at an appointed time. Italians, on the other hand, don't rely on this particular value.

The Italians believe events will happen when they happen and people will show up when they show up. And, it will be OK. On the one hand, not being “hung up” on the whole time thing is liberating. On the other hand, I can’t keep from feeling the dissonance. My well-ordered life still requires schedules and deadlines. 

Love-hate relationship with pausa

by Tom Greene

Like Seinfeld greets his nemesis, Newman, I’ve met the Italian daily break with the same enthusiasm.

Hellllo, Pausa.

From 1 to 4 p.m. every day, Italians in Cagli shut down shops, services, restaurants -- everything. This has caught me off guard more than a few of times. I walk down the hill to the grocery store for some necessities only to find the closed sign in the window. The third day in row when pausa stifled my plans to purchase toilet paper, the situation became more serious. The bidet was not on my list of things I wanted to try in Italy, but it was looking increasingly as the only option. I fumed walking back up the long hill to my apartment sans toilet paper. I was foiled by pausa once again.

My cultural dissonance raged.

But, here’s the thing: If I was working and living in Italy where I could actually take advantage of the three-hour long daily intermission, I’d love it. When I’m at work in the U.S. sitting in front of my computer, I always get tired right at that time of day. I usually have to take a walk around my office building or grab a Coke just to stay awake. Taking a nap at 2 p.m. would be wonderful thing. Unfortunately, afternoon naps are frowned at all the jobs I’ve ever held. Pausa is an aspect of Italian culture that would be wonderful to incorporate into my daily routine in the U.S., but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.     

If it ain't Baroque...

By Andrew Smith

            In the United States, almost everything is disposable.  For a few years I lived in Las Vegas, and anything that was more than 20 years old was considered out dated and ready for implosion.  In Italy, however, good luck finding buildings that are less than 100 years old.

An evening stroll down the ancient streets of Cagli.

            Revering the past is something the Italians are very good at. However, unlike Americans, they don’t put them behind bars and glass and charge you $15 to view the architecture.  Instead, they just go on living in their museums, not trying to improve on the masters who designed them, many dating back to the Renaissance and Baroque eras.  They update from time to time, and have installed limited internet connectivity, but for the most part they live where they have lived for centuries. 

In Cagli, some of the buildings the students are staying in date back to the 1500’s.  They haven’t been bulldozed to put in condominiums or gutted for the newest department store.  Caffe’s have been serving drinks on the piazza for generations, and they see no need to change.  A big screen TV in Caffe’ D’Italia to watch soccer shows they stay up with the times for their customers, but the ancient cobblestones are fine for the customers feet and the tiny streets have plenty of room for their single file cars.  Why try to update things that work just fine?

The need for bigger and better is not necessarily in the Italian DNA.  The culture doesn’t have the activity orientation of efficiency and practicality that seems to consume the US.  Without the same competitive nature as Americans, Italians don’t need to obtain and then better whatever their neighbors achieve.  The result is a livable beauty that blends the old and the new, as Italians remain side by side with their past.

Smiles, the Universal Language

By Janel Koval

As our bus pulled up to the city of Cagli, I had no idea what to expect.  I was aware that language was going to be a barrier, but I had taken a bit of Italian in my undergrad classes and was hoping that being immersed in the language would bring some of my old knowledge back.  Walking around the town, I made sure to always have a smile on my face and would attempt a "ciao" or "boungiorno" if it felt right.  Unfortunately, those were the only two words I was confident I could pull off.  Most interactions like this would elicit a similar response from those I encountered, and sometimes I would receive a wide smile or nothing at all in return. 

As the days went by, and we sat through more lessons in Italian, I started to remember more and more.  Slowly but surely, I would try and incorporate more in my greetings as an attempt to get to know the locals in Cagli.  One day, I was walking to the grocery store and walked by a man and woman talking on the street.  I smiled at them, but said nothing.  The woman did not respond, but the man met my smile with one of his own.  On the way back from the store, they were still there talking, and this time I said "Ciao."  Again, the woman did not really respond, but the man, still with a giant smile on his face, gave me a slight nod.  I walked up through the piazza with the other students, grabbed my key from my roommate and headed back down towards my apartment.

As I walked by the same spot where the man and woman had once occupied, I found it empty.  I turned the corner towards my apartment and ran into the man.  He was still beaming and offered me a "buonasera."  I again greeted him with "ciao" but also added "Come stai?"  This is where I made my mistake.  He responded with "bene" and then asked the same to me.  I was able to get out "va bene" but then he continued to speak quickly in Italian and I had to stop him with one of the only phrases I remembered from my Italian classes: "Mi dispiace, ma io parlo solo in englese, io non parlo in italiano." 

Now, the man and I found ourselves at a crossroads, we had reached our limit of verbal communication with one another.  The man then grabbed my hand, said something in Italian, which I was not able to understand and then with a giant smile, said "ciao."  I see that same man almost every day in Cagli, and he still greets me with that welcoming smile every time he sees me! 

A contridiction of culture

by Mark Ramos

After taking some time to analysis what I have seen and witnessed first hand to Italian culture there are some perceptions that are contradictive to me. For example, many of us know that Italians are more slow paced and not so worried about time. Italy have pausa during the day in which businesses closes down, and people that are working go home in the afternoon until after pausa is over. At restaurants customers can take as long as they wish at the table they occupy, and enjoy the company of family and friends. The establishment does not worry about the bill until after you are finished, which could be hours after you arrive. In America, we are more time orientated and fast paced because we have things to do, and deadlines to meet. Restaurants want to get as many customers in and out to make money.

Here is where I see a contradiction to Italian culture. The traffic is heavy in many places that I have visited, but people drive very fast. Even in Cagli on the narrow streets a few people drive quickly. Motorcycles take up the middle white line separating the lanes of oncoming traffic zipping in and out between other vehicles. As we have been told and see first hand that stop signs do not always mean stop to drivers here in Italy. By no means am I saying this is out of line and wrong. The pace seems to work fine for the country. I am trying to point out there is an opposite side or action to the laid back slow paced perception to Italian culture that they exhibit in some areas, which is a contradiction to their perceived identity. In America, some people will drive fast, and a majority of the population will stop at stop signs unlike our Italian friends. I have only been to one place, which was in Fano where my friends and I had to pay for our sodas as they were delivered to our table. I am not sure if that was because Fano is a tourist beach resort with many foreigners as the reason why. Or maybe the waiter knew that we were Americans and that is the usual percieved way we take care of business.

Don't watch the watch

By Andrew Smith

As a television journalist, I have a love/hate relationship with my watch.  I don’t want to be beholden to the tiny digital display which I now need glasses to see, but to be successful in my job it is essential.  As I have gotten to know the Italian people in Cagli, I understand more and more the term “Italian time” and just why they don’t care nearly as much as we do about the tick tock of the miniature clock.

     Italian time means “when we get around to it.”  The clock doesn’t justify an activity one way or the other.  As an American, I think noon means noon, but that just isn’t the way is it in Italy.  It has taken a week, but slowly I have gotten less in the habit of checking my watch, and more just in checking how I feel.  Case in point: Just the other night I was invited to a birthday surprise for one of the owners of a caffé in town.  As I always do, I asked what time to be there.  About nine was the response. 

     Having learned about Italian time previously, I gave it an extra hour, and walked up the piazza at about ten.  My buddy and his band were just sitting down to dinner a block away.  “Dopo, dopo!” (Later, later!), said Federico.  After an hour and a half, I came back, only to find they were just starting the meat course.  After a few more drinks, dessert, coffee, a trip back to the house for some instruments, and a little practice time, we finally hit the party at 1:00 am, just as things were heating up.

     As Americans we run our lives by those sweeping hands.  Had I given up, I would have missed a great moment like the one below.  I would have had only myself to blame, not my watch.

Ciao, Bella!

by Jacelyn Keys

Everyone back home, consider this your notice.  I want to be greeted each morning with a cheery, “Ciao, Bella!”  and double kissed on the cheeks as we part in the evening with the same “Ciao, Bella!”  A girl gets used to being called beautiful on a daily basis pretty darn quick – at least this gal has. 

Between the older men who sit on the wall and seem to enjoy the challenge of making me blush by the traditional double kiss on the cheeks to the older ladies I have befriended, my cheeks get kissed and patted on a daily basis.  Americans tend to have a pretty significant personal space bubble.  I have an even larger bubble than your average American.  Once I get to know people, I’m relatively huggy and cuddly, but if I don’t know you, I like at least one and a half arm lengths betwixt us.

That was before Italy. 

In Italy, the general sentiment seems to be  - snuggle up close to each other and get to know people sooner.  I blushed five hot shades of red the first time one of the men from the wall walked over to introduce himself and did the double kiss greeting.  Once the other men saw the blush, it became a fun game for them.  And a challenge for me to let go of my need for personal space upon meeting people.  I got there.  Now, the men pat my cheeks affectionately when I don’t blush and laugh with me, remembering my initial discomfort just a few days ago…or was it a lifetime ago?

While in America being treated like this may seem condescending, in Italy it is warm and comforting.  Having Romano (and older Cagliese gentleman who has taken most of the American students under his wing) tell me I look very elegant and beautiful no longer seems weird and awkward.  It seems normal and gracious.  As he tells me this, he takes my hand so he has a physical connection to me and looks me directly in the eye.   This moment is important.  And he doesn’t let go of my hand anytime soon; I stay in that moment with him and feel his sincerity.

Italians seem much freer with compliments than Americans – at least in my experiences both here and back home.  But they never seem to sound or be insincere.  I’m sure there are dishonorable people and insincere people, as exist in any culture, but I’ve yet to meet them.     

Italians are also pretty comfortable asking personal questions a few minutes after meeting a person.  If I’ve been asked once, I’ve been asked ten times in the last four days how I am still single.  “Is there a shortage of men in American?”  If I have a translator present or the people who speak French or English, I manage to tell them I am waiting for the kind of man any daughters I have can look up to and say, ‘I want to marry a man just like my dad.’  A man any sons I may have can say, ‘I want to grow up, find the person God has for me, and treat that person just the way Dad treated Mom.’

If the person inquiring as to my marital status doesn’t speak English or French, then I just borrow a phrase from Ashley (a fellow student) and say that I’m picky.  It may not cast me in the best light, but it’s not untrue and for people who don’t understand a great deal of English, it works. 

It further confuses locals because I wear a ring on my left ring finger.  Little things like this – stepping outside known cultural norms and expectations – causes its own kind of dissonance.  I have a personal space bubble; I tend to assume the rest of the world has the same bubble I have.  They don’t.  It is a cultural norm that American women wear wedding rings on their left hand; because I wear a ring but am not married it has caused some misunderstandings. None of these things are insurmountable, but if these tiny little differences can cause such consternation, how much more so can the larger differences between cultures cause anxiety?  Keeping the lines of communication open, being intentional about listening to others, and asking questions while reserving judgment are all key to resolving the small and large differences we experience.